Beneath the Twilight
by dutchtulips
Summary: R/Hr (was there any doubt?). Ron and Hermione have another of their infamous arguments, but when their row has Hermione blurting out how she feels about him, the duo come to a very special revelation. . . 100% premium, guaranteed fluff.


**SD ~ **Her Royal Highness, J.K. Rowling, owns the precocious characters. My only crime was loving them too much. ;-) 

**AN ~ **Still partying hard over the confirmation of the OotP release date? 24/7, baby, yeah! ;-) Well, anyways, this was weird -- this morning school had a two-hour delay, and whilst I was sleeping off the extra two hours, I became half-awake at one point (listening to Letterman's Top 10 list on the radio) and suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere - the idea for this fic struck me like a bag of bricks. so thank God for the two-hour delay, or else my Muse might never have awaken from hibernation. enjoy ;-) 

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**Beneath the Twilight**

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****-dutchtulips- 

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"Sometimes a person can have a truly good thing staring him right in the face, and not even know it." 

--Colonel Sherman Potter (Harry Morgan), _M*A*S*H_

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She really should have been studying. 

Hermione Granger was no stranger to a hard days' worth of schoolwork, there was no doubt about that. Not a single day had gone by since she was eleven years old that her nose could not be found stuffed in one various spellbook or another. As long as Hermione could remember, she'd always been that way - thirsty for knowledge, and eager to get it any way she could. And with an exam in Arithmancy approaching the following day, these two traits of Hermione's would surely work well in her favor. 

But amazingly, on this Friday night, Hermione was just about as far from those as it was possible to be. Although she was sitting in the library, with _Numerology and Gramatica _opened in front of her, the words were a mere black blur in front of her eyes. She kept pulling the heavy book closer, trying to concentrate, knowing how paramount it was to finish reading this chapter, but it wasn't working - not when something else was on her mind. 

A smile slowly formed on her face as Hermione became lost in her thoughts. _He'd go into a coronary, if he knew I was sitting in here having trouble with homework. After all, he's forever reminding me how big of a brain I am. . .though Heaven forbid if anyone else tease me about being so smart; he'd probably give the person two black eyes. . ._

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_But of course, he's always been like that, _she said to herself. _He's always been the protective one when it came to me. And he's **still** like that. _

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__Hermione sighed, half-pushing her book away. _Why do I do this to myself? Why do I think about him so much, about what a wonderful person he's been to me all these years? It just starts me off speculating if he all this time it's been because of how he. . .feels about me._

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_But you're being stupid, Granger, _the other half of Hermione's brain fought back._ His protectiveness with you might be just because you two are only best friends. After all, if Ronald Weasley really **does**_ _love you, why wouldn't he say so?_

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__"Why not indeed," She murmured to herself, resting her forehead in her palm. "I can't concentrate on anything anymore, with Ron always being on my mind. Perhaps its just time to give up on how I feel about him." __

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__It was true; Hermione feelings for her best friend had been growing steadily since, well, since as long as she could remember - and had shown no signs of stopping. It was in the weirdest way when she'd first realized what was going on with herself, when Hermione had, in fourth year, found herself a bit miffed with Ron because he hadn't asked her to the Yule Ball. But why, she couldn't quite tap into. So what, if her friend hadn't asked her to go to a dance? Why should it have mattered? But in some strange way it _did_ matter. . .it _did _matter because of how she. . .of how they _both_ - 

_This is mad, really. After all, he's made no move to get any of **his** feelings for me out in the open. Maybe he just doesn't have any._

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__She sighed, half in disdain, half in frustration, as she locked her concentration back on _Numerology and Gramatica _once more. After a few more minutes, Hermione's eyes finally began to absorb the text, and at last started to really get into the material, only, until - 

"Oh, Hermione! Thank God I've found you!" 

Suddenly her stomach felt full of butterflies as Hermione froze, recognizing that all-too-familiar voice. Slowly she pulled her gaze away from her studying to look at him. "Well, heavens, Ron, where else would I be?" Hermione smirked. 

The redhead smirked back, dropping down into the chair across from her. "Good point," he quipped, pulling his rucksack off his shoulders and sitting it on the table. "But sometimes I never know where you're going to be. Me and Harry have had extra Quidditch practices lately, and so you're always bouncing from here to the dormitory; from some meeting with a teacher to the ruddy kitchens about spew. . ." 

"S.P.E.W.!" Hermione corrected him curtly, though she couldn't help but smile just a little, knowing this had been about the millionth time she'd had to do so since starting the club. 

"Yeah," he replied vaguely, reaching into his rucksack. "Anyways, I need major help with some questions on our Potions study guide." Ron withdrew a roll of parchment and his Potions book. "I have _no _idea what the key ingredient is in that hemlock antidote. . .knotgrass or asphodel or dittany. . . .might as well be in pig Latin." 

"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed, "Professor Snape was just lecturing us on that last week! Didn't you copy down the notes?" 

Ron made a face. "As if I don't have anything better to do than listen to that greasy haired git?" 

"Well, if you're going to take that attitude, I don't have to help you at all, you know!" She snapped, propping her book back up to her face again. Behind the leather-bound cover, though, she bit her lip regrettably. Why did she always have to get testy with him all the time? 

Ron looked upset. "Please stop doing that!" 

She lowered her book, and said sharply, "Doing what, may I ask?" 

"Getting cross with me over this rubbish all of the time -" 

Hermione, jumping to her feet, promptly cut him off. "Perhaps because you call it that! Never do you have a good word to say about schoolwork!" Inside, though, she wished dearly she hadn't started this. But, like always, it was too late. 

"Wait there just a minute!" Ron shot back, impatiently. "Whether you realize it or not, _you_ never have an encouraging thing to say to me when I'm frustrated with it in the first place! It's always 'Ron, if you'd just been listening to Professor Flitwick, you'd have the answer!', or 'No, I'm not going to help you! You've had the whole weekend already to finish McGonagall's essay!' Why, Hermione? Why are you always so harsh with me about our lessons, and never anyone else?" 

And in her frenzy, before Hermione could realize what she was saying, shot back with, "Because it matters to me how well you do in your studies, Ron! I try to push you to do your best! It's because I care about you more than anything else in the whole world!" 

As a blush slowly crept up into Ron's cheeks, she froze, her exclamation echoing in her ears. Embarrassed, the silence now between them extremely awkward, Hermione quickly snatched up her books and ran out of the library. 

*** 

Orion the Hunter, Hermione's favorite constellation, twinkled down upon her among the other stars as she sat outside atop the North Tower. She'd been sitting up here nearly a half an hour already, and was slightly surprised no one had found her yet. 

After her skirmish with Ron, nearly blurting straight out exactly how she felt about him, Hermione hadn't any place else to go. She knew he'd find her easily in the dormitory, and facing him right now was more than she could bear. She'd just humiliated herself in front of him, in practically the worst way possible, by coming terribly close to just plain yelling out to him, "I love you!" 

Hermione's books were strewn about the floor, where she'd tossed them when she'd bolted up here. It wasn't as if she was in any mood anymore to read anyhow; her eyes were red from crying as she sat, removed, near the balustrade, her head down against her arms, which were propped up on the railing. _For heaven's sake, when I love Ron Weasley as much as do even when I'm mad at him, but after today he'll probably never want me around him again._

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Hermione sniffled as she glanced up at the shimmering curtain of sapphire making up the sky, with its sprinkling of glittery diamonds, which were the stars. Polaris, the north star, seemed to wink just for her as her stare rested upon it and, holding back the urge to burst into another fit of tears, found herself whispering a little rhyme that she remember from her youth. 

"A wish I may, a wish I might, on this star I wish tonight. . ." Hermione's clogged voice trailed off for a moment, ". . .I wish I hadn't been so stupid and told Ron how I felt a long time ago. . ." 

The warm zephyr drifting through the trees seemed to be singing Hermione a lullaby, and as she rested her face against her arms again, she closed her cinnamon brown eyes, and before she knew it, was fast asleep. 

*** 

"Hermione! Hey, Hermione!" 

She shifted, turning her face to muffle her ear, mumbling sleepily, "Go away." 

"Oh, come on, Hermione, wake up! It's almost time!" 

_Time for what? _She thought, finding herself very confused suddenly. In a stupor, Hermione lifted her head from her arms and found that her gaze had settled upon a very enthusiastic looking Ron Weasley. He was wearing his Gryffindor Quidditch robes and an excited smile. He was reaching a hand out to her. 

"C'mon, let's go! We've only got a few minutes, and I'm already late as it is!" 

Hermione rubbed her eyes and obliviously took Ron's hand, pulling herself erect. She was still completely nonplused as she blinked at him. Why was he suddenly so cheerful with her, almost as if their fight in the library hadn't even happened? 

"What are you talking about? Late for what?" 

"Our Quidditch match today, you nut! I would've been down there already, but I couldn't find you, and I was worried about you more than time." Ron grinned. 

"Quidditch? Today?" She asked, still muddled. 

"Yes!" 

Suddenly, as hot, bright sunlight shone into her face, Hermione realized it was very much morning. "Heavens, I fell asleep up here all _night_?" 

"Well, it looks that way, doesn't it?" Ron smiled. "I meant to come up here and join you last night, but I knew how busy you were with that Astronomy homework, and so I didn't want to disturb you." 

Hermione's eyes widened at this. "What? What are you talking about, Ron? I came up here because -" She cut herself off though, last night's embarrassment still echoing in her brain. 

Ron didn't seem to notice anyway, and as Hermione felt her best friend's hand suddenly tighten around hers, he said, "Aw, don't be upset, 'Mione. Forgive me?" 

A sharp pang erupted in her stomach as she stared down at her and Ron's clasped hands. "Well, well, sure, Ron, of course I do," she stammered. 

He beamed at her. "All right then, let's go! The Quidditch match is about to start any minute, and I'm not even on the field yet!" Ron pulled her after him as he rushed down the stone steps and back through the castle. 

Hermione, of course, was still bewildered as she'd been since waking up. Ron's words weren't making much sense, but what was even more confusing was the way he was so, well. . ._close_ with her. They'd just had that row last night, what had possessed him to be so warm and friendly with her, as if nothing had happened? She'd at least expected him to be uncomfortable around her, or even shy, but _this_. . . 

But any advancing thoughts were quickly lost from Hermione's brain as she felt something that nearly made her swallow her tongue - Ron's arm sliding round her waist. 

She looked quizzically up at him, but he merely returned her gaze with a smile and subtle wink. And suddenly a smile, a giggle, came over Hermione, somewhat in a mixture of wonder and confusion, all at once. Ron just grinned wider and tightened his grip around her, drawing her closer. 

Finally they reached the Quidditch pitch, and Ron's arm slipped reluctantly from Hermione's back as he took a step in the direction of the locker rooms, which led directly out onto the field. Looking back, though, he gave Hermione his heartwarming, lopsided smile, and suddenly she understood. Her wish. . .her wish last night sitting atop the North Tower. . .it had come true. 

"Wish me luck," he said softly, staring down at her. 

"Luck!" Hermione exclaimed brightly, her eyes shining. 

Ron smirked, and was quiet for a moment before he said, in the same gentle tone, "I love you," leaned forward, and kissed her forehead. 

She tugged on his arm as he started to head off again, and when Ron turned his amused face back in her direction, she stretched up and covered his mouth with hers, breathing him in deep, cherishing this timeless moment. . . 

*** 

Hermione awoke with a jolt, darting her gaze around frantically. The same dark sky and twinkling celestial bodies shone down upon her, and the scattered spellbooks still surrounded the place where she was sitting. An awful realization dawned on her, that it had only been a dream, and her face crumpled and contorted with crying once more. 

_It had been so real, _She heard in her mind, the thought throbbing painfully. _My wish had at last finally come true._

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__"No," she mumbled through her sobs, "No, it didn't." 

Tears splashed down Hermione's front, and she hastily wiped her face and nose on the sleeve of her school robes, trying to calm down. But once the weeping had started, she couldn't turn it off. 

A lean, shadowy figure suddenly appeared in the doorway behind Hermione. In her distress, however, she never heard the person approach, or even their footsteps on the stone floor as the person walked towards her. 

Abruptly Hermione felt a gentle hand grip her shoulder, and with a snap, she turned around, raising her wet face and tear-brimmed eyes to the person. "Ron. . ." She breathed. 

Ron returned her glance with a torn expression on his face. Quietly he knelt down in front of her, meeting her at eye-level. "Are you all right?" He asked softly, concern flooding his voice. 

She sniffled. "I don't know." 

Instinctively, the redhead reached out and laid his hand on top of hers. "Is this because of me?" 

Hermione almost wanted to laugh at the irony of his query, but was too discomposed to do so. Instead she sniffed again, feeling another rivulet of tears roll down her cheek, and murmured, "You. . .in a dream." 

Ron reached out with the cuff of his robes and tenderly brushed away her flowing tears. "Tell me about it," he whispered. 

Finally she managed to look up at him, upon his touch, and was surprised to see that Ron didn't seem confused by what she'd said. "It was a dream. . .the most beautiful dream I've ever had. . ." She replied in explanation, and then her voice dropped to where it was almost inaudible. "You were there in it with me. . . .and. . .everything was. . .perfect." 

Ron was quiet for a long moment after Hermione had spoken; he merely continued to wipe away Hermione's tears for her as they flooded down her cheeks, unstoppable. At last though he finally met her eyes again, and whispered, "I've been thinking a lot, about what you said earlier. . .in the library." 

She nodded in response, wringing her hands in her lap. 

"And I think maybe it's time I get this out in the open before it's too late." 

Hermione looked up at him, wonder filling her bloodshot brown eyes. 

Ron reached over and took one of Hermione's hands in his, intertwining their fingers. "When I first saw you, all those days and years ago, on the train, I thought you were. . .well, pretty." He paused, watching Hermione as her gaze on his widened, "But then of course, you spoke," Ron smirked, jesting, easing a small smile out of Hermione, "All this time being friends with you, all of the adventures we've shared, somehow I knew you'd change my life in a big way. In a _very_ big way. And I don't really understand how or why it took me all this time. . .I've been so blind for so long. . ." 

Hermione reached out with her other hand for Ron's, and he grasped it tightly as she did so. Slowly he looked back up at her and the words came tumbling out. "That I. . .I love you." 

Just when she'd thought she'd cried enough to dry herself of tears for the rest of her life, they no doubtfully started up in buckets again, and through them she replied, almost in a half-sob, "I love you, too." 

The next moment Hermione found herself buried in Ron's arms, and her tears dripping onto his collar as Ron kissed her deeply, fervently - just the way Hermione remembered from her dream, though she knew it was different - and better. 

Because - it was true. At last her dream had come true. 

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**el fin**

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